Wednesday, March 12, 2014

I have a flyaway soul. There is an anthology of song, barely hiddenUnderneath the eyelids of the windsthat blow through me. An anthology you may never see.

My flyaway heartIs a page folded in half. The woman in me is strong. With a firm grip she will:Lead you into her ocean of thought. She never seems to hesitate;But she never rushes in. AndEvery time you win, You wonder what made her concede.

My flyaway heartIs a page folded in half. You may only ever meet the little girl in meOn days I won’t be convinced of my beauty. Shy, vulnerable, naively trusting:Mischievous enough to have my way by agreeably smilingand letting you think you’re wielding something that could be mineIn a skipped heartbeat, Or a twinkling eye.

I have a flyaway soul.You could be a friend who knowsMy fierce loyalty and unabashed honesty. And once youGive me your worst to tame,You’ll be a grateful friend who knows I do not disapprove. Perhaps you’re a friend who’s learned over timeThe familiar drink with me is about All the ludicrous stories that are stubbornly true-you’ll laugh till you cry, I’ve been a purple elephant for you. And maybe you know, I can tell you everything inside me in a bear hug or handclasp, only uttering quiet silence.

My flyaway heart Might once have been yours. If you know that I love my own skin enough to know exactly how to- never forgetting to blink- get deep under yours. Or you could be a lover in who I am incapacitated A soldier’s first sweetheart; tethered to an almost broken promise.Too lost in the moment to see it’s brevity. And it certainly was once yours, and in part ever will be, if you’re someone perfectly beautiful and I broke you coldly.Or are ever still a woman or man who’ll always wonder what you might have seen if you’d caught onto my tailas I flew into the night, instead of letting me slip away.

No one ever captures flyaway soul standing still, It only stays perched long enough for one:single-faceted, uni-angular, ankle-deep picture. Just oneFrozen moment in time. You can know a flyaway heart if you dance with it,step matched to step. And surprise yourself to know that you knew all along:I can choose to be a wildcard, I can choose to be a ticket home, orI can choose not to choose at all. For

Monday, March 3, 2014

I suffer from the insanity of sinning repeatedly: I have broken tacit laws and become emotionally attached. I have dared to remember that love is a beautiful thing, too beautiful for fear to keep me away.

I’m tossing a gold coin with pain on one side and love on another, and I have won every time:

For love has held my hand through the world of roses, poets, and art. It has given me music to match my feet that dance to the tune of being in love. It’s made me give into the thrill of crossing stars, the pleasure of being on edge everyday when ‘casual’ was a dull, isolated orgasm.

Love isa sun-kissed free fall

holding the hand of

butterflies and uncertainty.

Of never knowing

Of not caring to be sure

Of hope with a little skipin your feetand heart.

I am unafraid. I care for people who do not inhabit my body and mind. I trust to be trusting, I love to be loving. I am a light who shines to shine,

fearless of being seen.

Fearlessof closing my eyes

To a child-like despondent waiting

of looking at life

Like an endless “find me” puzzle

that’s hiding all the vital signs.

Of loving learning

Of things new

Of people’s secrets:

their untempered truths.

Love is in

the hand-clasping

That leaves little shadows on the pavements

In

the loving feelings

which make a dull living bright and vivid.

Love is sharing

a full life, a full heart.

Yes.

I am in love, at your feet. Saying what I feel, holding your hand and marking your neck, missing you in my sleep, letting love songs make me weep: bathing you in the effervescence

Happy Reading

Don't jump to any conclusions:

Some of this is fiction, some of it isn't. Sometimes it's art, sometimes it's still getting there. Sometimes it's about me or someone I know, and often it's just me channeling some character in a story I've seen, read, imagined or heard. It goes back a while, some things have changed, other things haven't.

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